


Mr. Narcissist

by virtues_and_vices



Series: The Kolumbia Institution for the Mentally Unstable [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M, Homophobia, Kleptomania, M/M, Mental Hospital, Mental Instability, Mental Institution, Multiple Personality Disorder, Narcissism, Narcissistic Personality Disorder, Psycopaths, Schizophrenia, Sociopath, bullying (past), crazies, hope you like it, idk - Freeform, its kinda sad, so much more
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-15
Updated: 2015-05-22
Packaged: 2018-03-30 16:05:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3942958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/virtues_and_vices/pseuds/virtues_and_vices
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Which is it again?"<br/>"Kolumbia Institution for the Mentally Unstable, hun."<br/>"Okay. Thank you."</p><p>On my sixth birthday, I became aware of my narcissism. Every time I see my reflection, I just couldn't stop myself from admiring and complimenting... myself that is. My dad said it was called "Narcissistic Personality Disorder" and that it wasn't that bad. </p><p>Nope, it was bad.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The story of how everything went from bad to worse

**Author's Note:**

> Just wanted you to know (if you're actually reading this) is that this is a work of fiction. None of the characters are real but the illnesses are. 
> 
> Enjoy! This is my first work here in AO3 and I'm so excited for this.

I was born in a rich family. My mother is a well-known lawyer, my dad is a really popular doctor, my eldest brother is a college professor, my sister is graduating from law school this year and my baby sister just graduated from middle school as a salutatorian. 

I really don't know why the universe hates me.

From the moment I was born, everyone around me complimented me of how "handsome" I look. Everyone loved me. All of my lady friends swooned at the sight of me. Everyone pampered me and took care of me like I was some rare species of rose.

One day, in preschool, I saw myself in a full body mirror and thought "I do look gorgeous."

And that's where everything went downhill.

On my sixth birthday, I became aware of my narcissism. Every time I see my reflection, I just couldn't stop myself from admiring and complimenting... myself that is. My dad said it was called "Narcissistic Personality Disorder" and that it wasn't that bad. 

Oh, how wrong he was.

When I was ten, a couple of guys shoved me in a room full of mirrors in a carnival downtown. I was considered as the freak show of the entire school. Because of that, I tried to hide and avoided my narcissistic self. I wore contacts to blur my eyesight a little bit, I overreact when I see a mirror close by. Heck, I even stayed at home when I heard that Tokyo had a lot of glass buildings. 

And if that was bad, it turned worse. 

I started classifying myself as two people: Normal me and Narcissist me. It was a bad idea because a month after I got used to classifying myself, I saw a mirror and went into Narcissist mode. When I came back, my sister said that I acted like a completely different and kleptomaniac person. 

My mom checked me in with a psychiatrist and learned that I have both Narcissistic Personality Disorder AND Multiple Personality Disorder. 

(I only have two personalities though, I don't know how I qualified for "multiple".)

My dad was only a pediatrician so he didn't know how to cure me. They had no other choice but to put me in a mental institution. 

Here I am now, in the backseat of my dad's car driving to the Kolumbia Institution for the Mentally Unstable. 

After two long hours of driving, we finally arrived to a big grey building at the end of town. Dad parked his car and got my belongings from the trunk as I waited at the front entrance. 

As we walked into the institution, I noticed the small cracks running through the faded pastel paint on the wall. The floor was neatly tiled with white marble and there was soft elevator music in the hall on my right--

"Name?" A guy with (obviously) bleached hair said.  
"Uhh... R-Raphael Niche." I answered.  
"Age?"  
"17."  
"Illness?"  
"Narcissistic and Multiple Personality Disorder..."  
"Alright, nice to meet you Raphael. I'm Jessie and I welcome you to the Kolumbia Institution for the Mentally Unstable."


	2. The story of how I met a mystery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Please put this on your right wrist. There are four bands representing the difficulty of the patient’s cure. Yours is red which means you are one of the most difficult patients in this ma--… institution.” He said.  
> “O-Okay. What do the others symbolize?” I asked.  
> “That is for us to know and for you to not find out."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, It's me again. I updated. Chapter two :))

Jessie tugged me to a door to his left and told me to enter and answer honestly, which I did. After I entered, an old guy in a lab coat adjusted his glasses and spoke to me.

“You must be Mr. Niche.” 

His voice was shaky. His eyes looked at me waiting for an answer.

“Uh… yes. I am.”  
“Alright.”

He stood up, dusted his coat and reached for a red band. 

“Please put this on your right wrist. There are four bands representing the difficulty of the patient’s cure. Yours is red which means you are one of the most difficult patients in this ma--… institution.”  
“O-Okay. What do the others symbolize?”  
“That is for us to know and for you to not find out. Now,”

He reached for a button near the pen case and pressed it. 

“Jessie, please escort our new patient to the circle. Harris, call everyone there to meet him.” 

Jessie opened the door with a smile that just might split his face in half. His smile faltered a little when he saw my band, but he quickly recovered. 

“Shall we?” He asked (with probably too much enthusiasm.)  
“Sure.” I answered. 

Once we arrived, Jessie pulled me to the side and pinned my arm up.

“There are a lot of freaks here with no control; you better not waste your pretty boy face by succumbing to that sickness of yours.” He whispered.

He let me go and gestured his head for me to get in. Hands still shaking, I got in “the circle”.

The circle was… well, a circle. It was carpeted with dark blue wool and surrounded by plastic benches. 

Plastic benches that were occupied by at least fifteen people in dark grey shirts and black pyjamas.

“Okay,” a girl (staff probably) to my left said. “Guys, this is Raphael. Say hi, Raphael.”  
“Hi.” I said timidly.  
“He just got here today. He has narcissism and multiple personality. Treat him well.”

The girl then left me with my new clothes and said I should “socialize”, which I didn’t feel like doing so I just looked for one of the most normal looking people in the room, asked if he wasn’t doing anything (in which he answered sarcastically), then requested him to accompany me to the nearest comfort room to change.

After I changed into these (surprisingly comfortable) clothes, we went back to the circle.

The guy I asked invited me over to his circle of friends and who am I to decline. I quickly learned that his name was Adam and that he was 15 when he first tried suicide. He’s 16 and a half now and he’s been stuck here for a year. 

I made four friends today: Adam; Kfir: a guy with mild anxiety and dementia; Isabelle: a girl with Kleptomania and Bulimia; and Xavier: a guy with… well, he doesn’t tell anyone. Not even Adam. The only thing Xavier says about his disorder was that he’s a proud sadist.

That was when I found out that Xavier was the biggest mystery of this institution.

And that I was interested in solving that mystery of his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just so you know, all my progressing chapters will be 500 words up. I'm sorry it's short. I'll try better :)) Kudos and Review please. Thanky


	3. The story of how I couldn't sleep that night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I’m only human. And humans get curious.
> 
> No one was following me yet, well, Xavier and his companion surely hasn’t. They entered a room with a wooden door with a small hole. It was probably meant for a peephole.
> 
> After a whole minute of deciding if I should sneak a look, I finally gave in.  
> And holy sh*t, do I regret peeking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Adam for motivating me to write this chap. I'll preview you soon ehehehe.

I had a schedule for every hour of my day.

A really loud alarm clock in the hallway wakes us up at 8 o’ clock sharp. Then we have half an hour to eat breakfast (really disgusting but “healthy” breakfast served at 8:30) until 9. At 9, the staff picks us all up and walks us to the circle. Once we’re all in the circle, we talk about how we’re feeling and if the kids with eating disorders ate and whatnot. At 10, we have painting. It’s mostly meant for the schizophrenic and/or younger kids but everyone liked painting and getting their hands dirty so they decided that painting will be held regularly. 

At 11, the staff will tell us to form a straight line according to our diseases so we could have talks and help each other out. This triggers most of the OCD people to make the line straight as possible; in which the ADHD people have a problem with doing. I line up with the Narcissistic (which is only a blind Georgina and I).

At 12, we all do a short prayer and head to the lunch room where I sit with Adam and the others. Usually, we have mashed potatoes with gravy the consistency of water, fried chicken fillet and some overcooked rice but there are those rare times when Isabelle or Kfir’s parents bring pizza and donuts fit for the five of us. 

When the clock strikes 1, we are all lead to our rooms and we wait for our doctor to check us up. They ask us questions on how we’re doing and if we think we’re getting a bit better and most of the time shoving a mirror at my face and seeing my reaction. 

Okay, not really shoving, more like… umm… you get my point, don’t you?

Anyway, once we’re done and 2 o’ clock strikes, we have our free time. By which, spend the whole hour talking and playing with the desktop computer in the corner. At 3, we have snack time. Snack time usually consists of fresh fruits, a nutrition and chocolate bar from the vending machine and fruit juice that’s a little too sweet. It was a boring time.

Hmm… now that I think about “a boring time”, you’re probably not interested on how my boring schedule goes. Here’s the real story.

A week after I was admitted to this hospital, I noticed that Xavier wasn’t exactly lining up for the 11 o’ clock disease therapy. In fact, he was just standing there like he was waiting for someone... and, yeah, someone did arrive and picked him up. That someone was a he and he gestured Xavier to come with him. Where? I don’t know. 

I don’t know why I did it, but I told the personnel for my line that I had to go to the bathroom. The personnel insisted that she’d go with me but I already went ahead. She didn’t follow me, probably because Georgina still needs her. 

You probably guessed it by now but I didn’t go to the bathroom. I went to follow Xavier.

I’m only human. And humans get curious.

No one was following me yet, well, Xavier and his companion surely hasn’t. They entered a room with a wooden door with a small hole. It was probably meant for a peephole.

After a whole minute of deciding if I should sneak a look, I finally gave in.

And holy sh*t, do I regret peeking.

Later that night, after my routine was finally over, I couldn’t sleep. I kept thinking about what I saw through that hole. About why Xavier... crap. NO NO NO NO NO. I SHOULDN’T THINK ABOUT THAT.

Unfortunately I already put my first piece on the Xavier puzzle. 

Xavier was a sex addict.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope that was okay. The first part was kind of a filler part. Ugh, I really have to improve. Kudos are appreciated and motivates me to write. Reviews will be replied on. Sorry for the people that thought this will be a sex-free environment.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it. Review and Kudos please. It will make me happy and update too.


End file.
